A Baby at Alver
by Queen Eleni
Summary: This is another short story following the characters of Heyer's "Frederica." Takes place about 18 months after my previous fic, "A Wedding at Alver." Join the Dauntry/Merriville gang as Alverstoke adjusts to fatherhood, Jessamy experiences calf-love, and Felix refrains from blowing up anything. For now.
1. Chapter 1

A shrill scream pierced the quiet of midnight. The Marquis cursed inwardly; he had been on the verge of falling asleep and now he would undoubtedly have to endure an hour of such powerful cries before the baby wore itself out and left the household to sleep in peace. How did such a puny thing have such powerful lungs? And why, oh why, had they not put the nursery as far as possible from the master bedchamber?

He turned and cracked an eye open to look at his wife. Frederica was stirring, and no doubt was on the verge of getting up to make her way to the nursery. He stretched out an arm to grasp her hand.

"Nurse will see to it," he said groggily.

"But Nurse can't calm Baby as fast as I can," moaned Frederica, her eyes still shut as she began to crawl out from under the covers. "And what if Lufra decides that the house is under attack like he did last week, and poor Jessamy has to chase him all over the house and restrain him? The poor boy only came down from Oxford yesterday and he needs his rest after all that studying!"

Two thoughts flitted quickly through Alverstoke's mind; firstly, that his wife had not called him a "poor boy" when _he_ had had to chase Lufra all over the house last week; and secondly, that Jessamy was bound to spend the vacation studying whether he needed a rest or not and whether his dog kept him up nights or not. But paramount was the thought that this was the fourth night in a week that Frederica had lost most of her night's sleep in comforting the abominable brat during the great Teething Crisis, and that if she lost any more sleep the dark patches under her eyes might become permanent.

"Stay here," he commanded, rolling on his side and forcibly preventing her from getting up. "I'll see to Baby. You sleep."

"You'll see to Baby?" she asked in incredulity, opening both eyes wide. "Are you sure –"

"Yes, I am sure, and I won't drop Baby or do any other damage. You seem to forget that my parenting skills have already exceeded your expectations and that I ought to be perfectly capable of doing whatever it is you do that makes Baby stop screeching."

She eyed him dubiously, but slowly pulled the covers back over her. "If you insist," she said slowly, "but don't frighten Nurse out of her wits, if you can help it."

"It is very lowering whenever I consider how completely incompetent you think I am," he complained as he threw on a dressing gown and headed for the nursery.

But Frederica was nearly always right. Nurse Jenkins did give a frightened start when the Marquis appeared in the nursery clad in nightshirt, dressing gown, and slippers, his hair uncombed and with a hint of stubble on his chin. Alverstoke realized ruefully that she probably couldn't immediately recognize him without his impeccable clothing and carefully arranged coiffure. But she was not a foolish woman, and only took a few seconds to recover her composure.

"Your Lordship!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper as she rose from the rocking chair with the screaming blanket-bundled baby still in her arms. "Whatever are you- oh, I am so sorry that you were wakened, my Lord, but Baby's teeth!"

"It's quite alright, Mrs. Jenkins, I have come to relieve you of your charge." As he took the bundle from her, he smiled at the look of shock that spread over her face. "If it weren't me, it would be my wife, and we both know she cannot go much longer with such nights as these. Do go back to your chamber, and I will try to calm Baby."

She cast him a look of misgiving, but had no choice other than to obey. Thus it was that the Marquis of Alverstoke was left alone with his firstborn offspring.

"Well, brat?" he yawned as he sat down in the chair and positioned the baby in his arms. He rearranged the blankets so that he could clearly see the infant's enraged red face and rumpled mess of brown curls. He jiggled the baby experimentally, but the screaming only seemed to intensify. He sighed and sat back, prepared for hours of torment. Well, not hours. If the baby didn't stop crying, he supposed Frederica would show up eventually.

"You know, you are rather a bothersome child," he said conversationally, continuing to look down at the baby. "I thought Felix and Jessamy were troublesome enough, but you've taken the prize. First you make Frederica actually _moody_, and as big as a house besides. Then there was the day you were born, with my beloved wife screaming words I didn't think she knew. And although I do suspect she was quite pleased with you, you did seem to disappoint her when you turned out not to be a boy. My sisters were rather put out too and never stopped expressing it. You were meant to cut your cousin Endymion out of the inheritance, and instead of the Viscount of Branthington, heir to the Marquis of Alverstoke, we had to make do with Lady Margaret Harriet Elizabeth Dauntry. I didn't care, of course. Because I'll be dead if Endymion does inherit in the end, and I'm far too selfish to care about other people's disappointments. So while my sisters may poke up their noses, I bear you no ill-will for being a mere female. In fact, I'm rather fond of you when you aren't preventing the entire house from sleeping. Even your uncles find you rather interesting when you aren't crying. I know that cutting teeth is a painful business, or at least I assume it is, but you don't seem to understand that making the rest of us miserable will not alleviate your misery. But I suppose that rational argumentation won't work on you; you're really not quite up to snuff yet."

He paused, realizing that the bundle was no longer emitting any noise except for a soft gurgle. His own eyelids had begun to droop; he blinked and saw that Lady Margaret was regarding him with a quite serious expression in the eyes so like her mother's. It was that same look that came over Frederica's face when she was pondering something. They were both utterly silent for a minute, each gravely looking at the other. And then the infant curled one side of her mouth in something resembling a smile, nestled a red cheek against the Marquis' dressing gown, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

Alverstoke regarded her in astonishment. He had been in the room less than ten minutes, and the brat had not only ceased her wailing, but had actually fallen asleep! Would wonders never cease? He got up to place Lady Margaret in her cot and to return to his own bed, but his pleasure was short-lived. As he gently laid the baby down, he heard a loud bark, some kind of banging noise, a loud swear, and more barking. Glancing apprehensively down, he saw that Lady Margaret had opened one eye and that her face was beginning to pucker up and redden. He lifted her up again, hoping to stem the tide of tears. She seemed undecided as how to proceed. There was barking, the sound of a slamming door, and the mingling of paws and slippered feet in the hallway. A moment later, the door to the nursery flung wide, and Lufra lunged into the room, tail wagging vigorously, with a groggy and clearly frustrated Jessamy behind him.

"Oh, Alverstoke!" he exclaimed with a look of surprise, as Lufra ran to his lordship's side and attempted to gain a sniff of Lady Margaret, who had still not decided whether or not to cry. Alverstoke sat down once more with his daughter and sighed, looking up at Jessamy in weary resignation.

"I'm ever so sorry," said Jessamy, running a hand through disheveled dark hair. "Luff was silent all through the crying, and then as soon as she stopped, he seemed to think something was the matter and panicked! He wouldn't stop barking and scratching to be let out, so I had to open the door, and then he rushed down here and wouldn't leave till I had opened the nursery door, and well – now he seems fine! I thought you said last week Lufra was panicked by the crying?"

"Apparently the Baluchistan hound has decided that crying normal, and that the cessation of the abhorrent noise is a signal that some intruder has done away with the brat," said Alverstoke, a hint of amusement in his otherwise annoyed voice. "And he had to be reassured of her safety. What an intelligent animal! How grateful we must be for his constant vigilance!"

"Well, I'm glad Meg hasn't started crying again, but I am truly sorry I couldn't manage Luff," said Jessamy, still apologetic as he collapsed into another chair and watched Lufra as the canine set his head on Alverstoke's knee in order to better regard the perfectly sound infant. Lady Margaret, who had never shown the least fear of the enormous dog, gurgled and waved a fist at his head.

"Now really, Jessamy, don't start yearning for penance on your first night – or is it morning- home! I will not have forgiveness wrangled out of me at this hour, not even for the sake of _your_ conscience!"

Jessamy laughed. "No, it would be too bad of me, sir. But I didn't really expect to find you here with Meg. Where's Frederica?"

"Asleep in bed, I should hope. She was not easily persuaded to let me come in her place. I must say Jessamy, I am disappointed that not even you think me capable of managing my own child."

"Well, sir, you are the most complete hand, but I didn't think your expertise extended to babies," admitted Jessamy with a twinkle in the back of his eyes. It was a relief, thought Alverstoke, to see that in the past year and a half Jessamy had not only become more capable of enduring mockery of himself, but had gained enough confidence to occasionally mock his mentor. Oxford had been good for him, and though he was still only eighteen, he had all the makings of an excellent young man about him. _Far more than I did at eighteen_, thought Alverstoke wryly.

The door opened again, and Frederica stepped in, the third now in the room with dressing gown and slippers and disheveled hair. Alverstoke groaned and kept his arms even more firmly about his daughter, whose fingers were now very slowly stroking Lufra's furry forehead as her eyelids became heavy with sleep again.

"Frederica, go back to bed!" her husband whispered as loudly as he could. "She is very nearly asleep again. Good God, did you think I had accidentally killed her? I got her to sleep in ten minutes, and you assume something must be wrong."

"No, of course I didn't think you had killed her," Frederica whispered back. "I had fallen asleep myself, then I heard Lufra and thought that might set Baby off again." She crossed the room, smiling at Jessamy, and perched on the arm of the rocking chair to look down at Lady Margaret. "I must say, I am most impressed, Vernon, and shall never doubt your abilities again." She leaned down to kiss his cheek and added, brightly, "Well, now every time she cries in the middle of the night I shall send you to comfort her!"

She rose again and bent to peck Jessamy on the forehead as she left the room. "I shall leave Baby in capable hands. Goodnight, dear Jessamy, we are so glad you are home."

Alverstoke looked at the door as it closed softly behind her, his brow furrowed. "Do you know Jessamy, I begin to wonder if this was your sister's plan from the outset. Show doubt in my baby-handling abilities until I was determined to prove myself, then hand over all responsibility to me. It is remarkably similar to how I got saddled with you all in the first place."

Jessamy laughed, called Lufra to heel, and everyone went to bed at last.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Jessamy went out to call upon the Reverend Lawrence Trevor and his family. He had little difficulty in convincing his younger brother to accompany him. Felix had recently read something about steam power in a scientific journal that he wished to share with Miss Leighton, whose family permanently resided at the parsonage. Over breakfast the brothers argued about whether they ought to walk or to ride. Felix, who did not like to ride, said that as there had not been rain in a week the ground would be quite dry and it wasn't really so very cold. Jessamy pointed out that walking would take much longer and that the clouds signified that it might very well rain as they were traveling. Frederica watched in amusement as what would have erupted into a very heated discussion two years ago fizzled into a compromise as Jessamy agreed to stop and see all that Felix wished to show him in his laboratory on the way back if they took the quicker mode of travel.

They were halfway to the parsonage when Jessamy spotted another two riders headed towards them in the opposite direction. He recognized neither horses nor riders, and as they slowed to a trot he asked Felix if he had seen them before.

"Oh, I think it's Saphirra Bellingham and her groom," said Felix dismissively. "She likes to ride about nearly every day, if the weather's good. Cass says it's because she thinks she looks very becoming on horseback."

Jessamy had no notion as to who Saphirra Bellingham was, but as the riders pulled up next to each other, he had to concede that she did indeed look very becoming on horseback. Miss Saphirra Bellingham, though, probably looked becoming in whatever position she found herself. Jessamy stared at her as though beholding a vision. Growing up with the lovely Charis Merriville for a sister had, he thought, made him somewhat immune to the exterior charms of young women. He was wrong. The girl before him, sitting upon a magnificent bay horse and wearing a perfectly tailored rose-colored habit, was the incarnation of a dream. She had snow-white skin, perfectly chiseled features, rosy red lips and large blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes. Her hair fell in black curls from an elaborate arrangement beneath the jaunty cap that matched her habit; and he could tell that her figure was both slender and womanly. He felt his jaw slacken, and quickly called himself back to reality before he began to gape.

Felix, seeing his brother's besotted state, could not help but grin as he greeted Miss Bellingham.

"Master Felix," she said in a bell-like voice and with a nod of her head, "how delightful to meet you here! I do not often see you riding. And you simply must introduce me to your companion; I believe we have not met?"

"Hullo, Miss Bellingham," said Felix. "This is my brother Jessamy. He's up at Oxford, so you wouldn't have met him yet. Jessie, this is Miss Bellingham. She's a cousin of the Gilberts, you know them, and just came to stay with them in October."

Jessamy didn't even think to chastise Felix for calling him _Jessie_. He bowed his head to Miss Bellingham and murmured a greeting.

"Oh, so you are the famous Mr. Jessamy Merriville!" exclaimed Miss Bellingham with a glinting, lovely laugh. "Your family speaks of you so often, and everyone at the parsonage as well! I hear you are doing ever so well at Oxford!"

"Oh! Well, I – that is, I do try my best," said Jessamy, astonished that this divine creature should have heard of him, and cursing himself for such a stupid reply.

"I shall be delighted to make your further acquaintance, I am sure. I must be off, for my aunt does worry so whenever I go out riding, but I simply adore the fresh air, don't you? Are you off to the parsonage? What dear people the Trevors are. And the Leightons, of course! Cassandra Leighton is such a whimsical little creature, I'm sure I never know what she will say next. Give her my regards, won't you Felix?"

And then she and her groom were off, and Jessamy was left astride his horse, feeling as though he had not breathed for the last two minutes.

"What fustian!" exclaimed Felix as soon as they had started again and Miss Bellingham was out of earshot. "She and Cass detest each other. I daresay she just wants to get a rise out of Cass. Well, I won't be giving her any regards, as I don't want Cass to bite my head off."

"Why doesn't Cassandra like her?" asked Jessamy, coming back to earth. "She seems very nice."

"Oh, I dunno," shrugged Felix, who at fifteen was not well-versed in the ways of female friendships. "I think it's because since they're the same age everyone expected them to be great friends, but they're not at all alike or even interested in the same things. And at parties, you know, Cass gets invited to all these grown-up parties now she's put her hair up, all the boys ogle Saphirra and ignore Cass, who they all used to treat like a friend. And she says parties are ever so dull because she just sits there while everyone makes up to Saphirra."

Yes, Jessamy could see some logic in this. Cassandra was a friendly, kind girl, but neither pretty nor accomplished, and Miss Bellingham would outshine anyone. Not that any blame could be laid at Miss Bellingham's door; it wasn't her fault that she was divinely beautiful. Perhaps Cassandra was even jealous of her, which would of course make things awkward between them. But no, that couldn't be, for the Cassandra Leighton he knew was not the jealous type. She probably just didn't like going to parties regardless of Miss Bellingham's presence; she'd rather be climbing trees.

They arrived at the parsonage not long after, and as they led their horses around to the stables, they were greeted by two small boys, who ran out around the hedge breathlessly.

"Hullo Jessamy!" said Jimmy Leighton in an exaggerated whisper. "Don't act like you see us, we're running away from Cass, and she'll box our ears if she finds us! Come on, Charlie!"

And with that they disappeared into the stables with the groom and the horses. Felix and Jessamy both laughed as they made their way to the house. They had nearly reached the door when Miss Leighton came running around the corner, her cheeks flushed and her hair askew.

"Have you seen them, Felix?" she demanded. "Those two brats of brothers, they took the lace ribbons off my new gown and tied them all around the cat's neck and ears, and of course she swatted them off and the lace is ruined, and Mama will be furious with me because I left the gown out instead of locking it in the wardrobe like I should have. Oh, hello Jessamy."

She stopped fuming once she became aware of Jessamy's presence and held out her hand. He took it, saying in return, "Hello, Cassandra. It's good to see you again. They're in the stables. But don't tell them I told you, or they'll hate me forever."

"Jessamy, it _is_ good to see you again too," she said, giving him a quick and impulsive hug before she darted off to the stables.

Jessamy was slightly flushed as the maid ushered them into the parlor. No, Cassandra Leighton was not precisely pretty nor at all ladylike. But she had grown up in some way since the summer holidays. With long skirts, and her hair up, even with much of it falling out of its pins, and her suddenly feminine form, it had taken a moment for him to recognize her. He berated himself. First he had been caught gaping at Miss Bellingham, and now he was blushing because Cassandra Leighton, his little brother's best friend, had hugged him? What on earth was coming over him?

He was warmly greeted by the parson and his wife, as well as Mrs. Leighton and Mr. Simon Trevor, the parson's third son who was had taken orders some years ago and was Alver parish's resident curate. Jessamy had struck up friendships with nearly all of the Trevor family, but most particularly with Reverend Trevor, who had taken Jessamy under his wing from the first. Mrs. Trevor and Mrs. Leighton were both overflowingly kind women, though the mother had rather more sense than the daughter, and they were friends with all the world. Simon Trevor was less open, a stiff and rather reserved young man of around thirty years. He had been engaged to the eldest Miss Gilbert for the last two years and said he was "waiting to be settled" before they got married. Cassandra had once let slip that she wasn't sure whether this meant he was waiting for the Leighton family to remove themselves from the parsonage or for her grandfather to die. Either way, she said, Miss Gilbert was going to have to wait a long time to get that ring on her finger.

As the tea tray came out, so did Cassandra, her dress and hair tidied up and a look of grim satisfaction on her face. Jessamy assumed that Jimmy and Charlie were both suffering from sore ears. She sat primly down beside Jessamy on the sofa and proceeded to pepper him with questions about his term at Oxford. He fell quite easily back into their habit of conversing, but when he had finished explaining his struggles with the Greek language, Felix lost patience, swallowed his cake, and began to tell Cassandra all about the new bit of scientific knowledge he had obtained. Jessamy turned to listen politely to the chattering Mrs. Leighton who appeared to be having something of an argument with her parents.

"Of course, she really is too young to be out, we've talked about this before, Mama, but you know she's not going to learn to be a lady if I keep in the schoolroom till she's thirty, so I think it's better for her to go about the neighborhood gatherings early and she'll learn how to behave from _experience_. Papa, I'm sure you agree with me, you were always saying to us that experience is the best teacher, and how she is supposed to learn to behave when all she does is play with the boys and learn classical languages with you? I only can get her to practice music _at all_ by threatening to cut off her Latin lessons if she doesn't and she has no _examples_ of proper young ladies in this household, it's better if she can go to parties and of observe the behavior of young women like Miss Gilbert or that _charming_ Miss Bellingham, who is only a year older than her but so much more refined!"

Here she paused to draw breath and the elder Mr. Trevor smiled at Jessamy, saying, "Now, you see how my daughter is all in a flutter about Cassandra's education, and is most upset with me for teaching classics to the girl. What is your opinion on female education Jessamy? Music and stitchery?"

Nobody had asked Jessamy such a question before and he was hesitant to answer. "Well, I suppose most girls need to learn that sort of thing, but – well, if Miss Leighton likes learning other things, I don't see what harm there is in it. I mean, one must occupy one's time with something and girls aren't allowed to go off to Oxford or Cambridge, so if they want to improve their minds at home…"

"I think you do wrong to encourage these whims of Cassandra's, Father," said Simon Trevor gravely. "There is nothing wrong in a girl being clever, of course, but of what use is such knowledge to her? She will simply become puffed up in her own achievements, and such a lack of modesty is most unbecoming in a young woman."

"Well, I have never seen Cass puffed up in her life, so I'll teach her as long as she likes," said Mr. Trevor jovially. "Now, Jessamy, tell me all about your studies."

As they were leaving the parsonage, Cassandra walked with them to their horses.

"The lace?" Jessamy asked.

"Mama is going to kill me, but at least I got to box the boys' ears and they promised they would take the blame for it. Anyway, I'd rather have plain ribbons than lace ones; no use dressing up mutton like lamb." She smiled widely. "I'm to wear the gown to the Christmas dance at the Gilberts' next week. Are you two coming?"

Felix snorted, "Am I likely? Do they even invite fifteen year-old boys to dances?"

"Oh, but Jessamy will be invited, won't you? Please come, then I won't be bored to pieces!"

"Saphirra Bellingham will be there," Felix mentioned in an attempt at nonchalance. Jessamy glared at him before returning a smile to Cassandra and assuring her that he would be there if he was invited, and would dance with her if she didn't mind her toes being stepped on.

"Famous! But when did you meet Saphirra? Didn't you just arrive yesterday?" she asked uncertainly, a slight frown marring her normally cheerful expression.

"Oh we met her riding here. You know her, always dragging that poor groom all over the county with her," said Felix. He added, "She completely bowled over Jessamy."

"She did not!" Jessamy protested. "I was just being polite."

Felix snorted again and they took their leave. Cassandra waved goodbye, but there was still a small frown in her eyes as they followed the figures on horseback. She then returned to the house to break the tragedy of the lace ribbons to her mother.


	3. Chapter 3

3

"Meg is crying _again_," stated Felix heatedly but unnecessarily. The wails could be heard quite clearly, even though the drawing room where the family was taking tea was very far from the nursery. "Isn't there a way to make babies _stop_?"

"Well, when you were a baby, I often thought about throwing you out the window when you started to howl," said Frederica, calmly sipping her tea. "I never did, of course, but it's one way of making a baby stop crying."

"Don't give him ideas, my love," said Alverstoke.

"Are you sure you didn't throw him out the window, Frederica?" asked Jessamy with a smirk. "Not even just a ground-level one? Because a strong bump to the head might explain so much."

"Ho ho," said Felix sarcastically around a piece of cake. "I meant a _real_ way. A _scientific_ way."

"Felix," said Alverstoke slowly, setting his cup and saucer down upon the edge of a table. "I wish to be perfectly clear. If you so much as attempt to perform a scientific experiment upon Margot, I shall personally throw you out the highest window Alver has."

"Oh, well, if you're going to be like that," grumbled Felix. "It's not as if I would _hurt_ her."

"Margot?" Frederica was distracted. "Since when do you call Baby Margot?"

"I settled on it last night," replied the Marquis coolly. He had only been put out of countenance twice since his boyhood, and neither of these times had been before two schoolboys. He wasn't about to break any composure now, though he did feel a twinge of embarrassment in giving a pet name to his daughter. "After all, I can't call her Baby or The Brat forever. Especially not when more come along."

"But why Margot?" asked Jessamy. "We call her Meg and Frederica calls her all sorts of silly things."

"Meg is nice and short," agreed Felix. "I like it."

"Margot is much more refined than Meg and I am very high in the instep," said Alverstoke haughtily, causing both boys to laugh. "And I think she looks more a Margot than a Meg."

"Jessamy said he's going to the dance next week," said Felix abruptly. "If you and he all go and don't come back till late and Meg wakes up and starts crying and Lufra goes crazy when she cries or when she doesn't cry, what am I supposed to do?"

"Jessamy, you want to go to the Gilberts' dance?" asked Frederica in surprise. "I had no notion you enjoyed dancing."

"He doesn't," said Felix before Jessamy could open his mouth. "We met Saphirra Bellingham when we were riding to the parsonage."

"Oh, well, that does explain everything," said Lord Alverstoke with a chuckle.

Jessamy shot Felix a scathing glance and said, "I just think it would be the proper thing to do. After all, I'm not a child anymore, like some people, and adults must fulfill their social obligations."

"Yes, I'm sure you're socially obliged to stare rapturously at Miss Bellingham. All the other men in the neighborhood seem to be," said Felix.

"My dear Felix, I hope I do not fall under this accusation!" protested Alverstoke, seeing from a glance at his wife that she wished to draw the mockery away from an already flushing Jessamy.

"Well, I suppose not, but you seem to think Meg is the prettiest girl in the neighborhood, so I'm not sure if you even count."

"And to think I was once considered a great connoisseur of feminine beauty," mourned Alverstoke. "And you wrong me to some degree, Felix. I think Frederica is the prettiest girl in the neighborhood, then Meg, then Mrs. Leighton."

Felix laughed. "You are a complete hand, Alverstoke. But Mrs. Leighton? She's not a girl at all. And how can you call her pretty?"

"Woman, then, but if you were a bit older you would also consider Mrs. Leighton pretty. With any luck, your friend Cassandra will grow to resemble her."

"Well, even if she does in looks I hope she doesn't in personality. I like Mrs. Leighton, but she's rather silly, don't you think, Jessamy?"

"I wouldn't say silly…" Jessamy trailed off, not willing to speak ill of a family friend like Mrs. Leighton.

"Do you know, sir," said Felix, taking another slice of cake and addressing himself to Alverstoke. "It seems that prettier females tend to be the silliest. Haven't you noticed? I wonder why that is. Almost every pretty female I know is silly. There's Charis and Mrs. Dauntry, and Cousin Diana, and Mrs. Leighton, and now Miss Bellingham."

"That," said Alverstoke, much impressed, "is a very profound observation, Felix. Though I'm not sure if Miss Bellingham is silly. No, I would not quite call her that. " Seeing Jessamy's questioning frown on him, he cleared his throat and said, "I do not know her well enough to judge in any case, after all. Well, Felix, as Jessamy is to accompany us to the dance, we shall leave Lufra in your hands and Margot in Nurse's hands, and hope for the best."

During his holidays Jessamy went out riding nearly every day. For the most part his younger brother refused to accompany him, claiming that he preferred working in his laboratory to hunting down Saphirra Bellingham. Jessamy did not deign to give any response to the latter claim, although it was true that he had managed to meet with Miss Bellingham twice during his solitary rides. Each time they enjoyed a brief conversation that left the serious-minded youth feeling an unaccustomed lightheadedness. But he enjoyed his rides for himself as well, and was not at all displeased when one morning he found himself greeting Miss Leighton on foot rather than Miss Bellingham on horseback.

Jessamy hailed Cassandra with a smile and dismounted, gathering the reins in one hand so he could lead his horse while joining her in her walk.

"This is the first time I've seen you out walking since coming home," he said. "You were running all over the countryside during the summer."

"Alas, that summer was the end of my happy childhood," said Cassandra in a tone of mock grief. "Now I am a young lady and must either stay indoors or walk sedately about the shrubberies with other young ladies."

"But not today?"

"Today I escaped," she replied with a look of mischief in her eyes. "Mama was occupied with the boys and after my Latin lesson I asked Grandpapa's permission to walk. He tends to forget that I am now obliged to be ladylike and if I get far enough from the house before Mama realizes my absence, I can enjoy a long stroll."

"I'm not sure if I ought to scold you for imprudence or congratulate you for ingenuity."

They walked companionably in silence for some minutes. They were nearing the barn that served as Felix's laboratory and Cassandra asked if they might stop to greet Felix.

"It's one of the worst things about being a young lady," she confided to Jessamy. "For a year I helped Felix with his experiments, and we had such fun! And now it's not proper for me to be alone in the laboratory with him, so all is at an end. I suppose I should be grateful for the Latin lessons and all of Grandpapa's books, but sometimes I just feel like my brain will _die_ of boredom!"

"It must be difficult indeed," replied Jessamy slowly, and with sympathy. "I had not ever thought much of it, for you are the only girl I know who has such a desire for learning. I am no radical, but surely there is nothing improper in a girl's occupying her mind just as much as a boy is able to. It seems unjust that my love of classical languages should be encouraged while yours is condemned."

She gave him a beaming smile as they entered the barn. They were both somewhat surprised to find Felix sitting thoughtfully at one of the planks set across two hurdles that served as the laboratory's tables, occupied with nothing more exciting than a circle of coral beads and a book.

"Hullo, Cass, hullo Jessamy," Felix greeted them absently as they walked in, only looking briefly up at them before returning to his pondering of the beads.

"This is disappointing," remarked Cassandra as she perched on a barrel. "No gunpowder, no new machinery, not a flame in sight! I picked a dull day to visit."

"Aren't those Meg's beads?" asked Jessamy. "What on earth do you want with a baby's trinket?"

"She's supposed to chew on them to make the teeth-cutting less painful," said Felix, "and these aren't her only beads, I saw at least three strings of them in the nursery. Apparantly they're one of those gifts everyone thinks to give a baby."

"But what do you mean to do with them?" asked Cassandra.

"Well, they aren't working, are they? Because she screams even when she is chewing on them. So I need to fix them, but I don't know the solution yet."

"Fix them? How does one fix coral beads?" questioned Jessamy with ill-concealed scorn.

"I told you that I don't know yet," said Felix impatiently. "I'm still researching, and you're not helping. Cass can stay, she's _useful_, but you're not. You can just go riding about looking for Miss Bellingham."

"You can go on if you like, Jessamy," said Cassandra, ignoring the comment about Miss Bellingham. "I'll help Felix with his research for just awhile before I go home. If I only stay a quarter of an hour, I doubt I'll lose my reputation."

Jessamy, irritated that Miss Leighton should dismiss him as summarily as his brother, left the barn, mounted his horse, and did indeed go looking about for Miss Bellingham.


	4. Chapter 4

The Gilberts' dance was held two nights before Christmas. Although there was a chill wind as the Marquis, his lady, and Jessamy set out in the carriage, there was no sign of snow. Jessamy was rather silent on the short journey, wondering exactly why he had been so eager to accept the Gilberts' invitation. His desire to dance with Saphirra Bellingham was admittedly strong, but he could not, in all propriety, dance more than two dances, and if she was as popular as she must be, it was possible he might not have the opportunity to dance with her at all. And what was he supposed to do with the rest of the evening? He tended to find dances very dull indeed and would be expected to make polite conversation with a number of people he was barely acquainted with. At least Cassandra would be there.

"I do hope Jessamy is not as infatuated with Miss Bellingham as Felix seems to think," said Frederica to her husband as he led her to the floor for the cotillion. Jessamy had been remarkably successful in engaging Miss Bellingham for both the cotillion and a country dance. Indeed, considering how surrounded by admirers she had been upon their arrival, it must be suspected that she had deliberately left room for Jessamy on her dance card. "It is not at all a suitable match, and he is far too young to be thinking of settling down."

"Of course he is too young," said Alverstoke, who believed that any man under thirty-seven was too young and foolish to know anything about marriage. "And I believe you are making a fuss over what is clearly Jessamy's first case of calf-love. But why unsuitable, my love? Miss Bellingham is of respectable birth, and though her fortune is not large I did not think you mercenary."

"She's unsuitable because she's a conniving little minx," hissed Frederica so that only he could hear. She craned her neck in order to better view the little minx, who was at that moment laughing most charmingly at something Jessamy had said. Frederica's frown deepened as she noted the red flush in her brother's face.

"I am sure you are right, Frederica, though I think she is out of her depth. Now stop worrying and attend to the dance! Recall that while Jessamy is young he is by no means a bad judge of character, and that the more he sees of her the more likely he is to perceive her – er – minxish ways."

As yet Jessamy had perceived nothing of the sort. He felt as though he were floating as the cotillion ended and he led Miss Bellingham to a seat. He asked if he could get her some refreshment.

"Oh, Mr. Merriville, you are too kind!" she exclaimed in her bell-like voice. "I would like nothing more than to take a glass of lemonade with you! But I have promised this next dance to my cousin George, and I really must honor my engagement, no matter how much I should wish to sit comfortably with you. Perhaps we shall have a moment later, and you might tell me all about your studies!"

And then she was whisked away and he was left to glower at George Gilbert, a gangly sandy-haired youth who was clearly besotted with his cousin. But Jessamy was too well-mannered to sulk, and he moved away from the dancers, looking for Miss Leighton. He spotted her sitting rigidly on a sofa, and after fetching two glasses of lemonade, he walked to the sofa and asked if he might join her.

"Oh _thank_ you," she said as she took the glass offered to her and he sat beside her. She tried her best to sip rather than gulp the cold drink down. "Mama said I should not fetch my own drink but wait for some young gentleman to bring me one, and I've been so thirsty this past half-hour!"

"Where is your mother?" asked Jessamy, looking about. "I should have thought to find her here with you."

"Well, I suppose I ought to be mortified, but I'm really not," said Cassandra mischeviously. "What do you think? Mama has been asked to stand up for nearly every dance, and so far I've only danced two! She is most disappointed in me, but I'm rather proud to have such a popular mother."

"Should you like to dance?" asked Jessamy.

"Good gracious, Jessamy, you know you don't have to sacrifice yourself on my account," said Cassandra with a laugh. "It's most kind of you to offer, but be assured that I dance dreadfully and have no wish to make you the laughingstock of the room."

"Sacrifice? Don't be ridiculous," said Jessamy, not sure if his irritation stemmed from her self-deprecation or her apparent belief that his asking her to dance was motivated by pity rather than friendship. She heard the note of annoyance in his voice and scrutinized his countenance with interest.

"I do believe you're angry with me," she said slowly. "But I'm not sure why."

"I'm not angry with you," said Jessamy, taking a sip of lemonade. "If you don't want to dance, let us talk of something."

"If you like," said Cassandra, knowing not to push. "Let's see… how do you find Miss Bellingham? You both seemed to enjoy your dance."

"I find her to be a very pleasant girl," said Jessamy warily, "but I believe you are not friends."

"Not friends, no, but I bear her no ill will. She seems to like you very much."

"Do you think so?"

"Well, she certainly is going to great lengths to be pleasant to you," said Cassandra honestly. "And after all, why shouldn't she like you? You are quite likeable."

"I'm not sure why she does like me," confessed Jessamy ruefully. "I'm not at all the sort of person young ladies generally wish to talk to. She said she wanted to hear all about my studies at Oxford, which I find hard to believe."

"Well, I like hearing about your studies, and I am a young lady," Cassandra pointed out.

"Yes, but you're different," Jessamy began, and then realized that the comparison between the two ladies, made in all innocence, might not be felicitous from Cassandra's point of view. "I mean, you and I are old friends, are we not? And so we are naturally interested in what the other has to say. But it is unusual for a girl I've only just met to take such an interest."

Cassandra could have pointed out that she had found Jessamy's studies interesting the very day she met him, but she felt the conversation needed a new turn, and so she turned it to those very studies.

After their country dance, Jessamy found himself undergoing the privilege of taking Miss Bellingham into supper. He felt a slight pang of conscience when he thought that Cassandra might find herself without a supper partner, but caught sight of her on the arm of Hugh Gilbert and was thus able to enjoy his meal with Saphirra without guilt. Master Hugo was, like his elder brother, sandy-haired and gangly, but he was too young to be enamored of a cousin his own age, and was quite content to dine with his old playfellow.

As they ate, Miss Bellingham alternated between questions about Oxford and even more questions about Jessamy's family. He was happy to describe Graynard, his childhood home to her, in some detail, but she seemed to be more interested in his connection to Alver.

"You are also a cousin of Lord Alverstoke, I believe?" she inquired. "And I believe your other sister is married to his lordship's heir?"

"Yes, to Mr. Endymion Dauntry," replied Jessamy. "Though I don't believe we are truly cousins in the full sense. More like a family connection."

If he had been less dazzled by her beauty, Jessamy would have thought Miss Bellingham's intense interest in his family affairs unusual if not impertinent. As it was, he was very content to sit beside her and answer her curiosity to the best of his ability. Though the conversation itself might be dull (even Felix had more interesting things to say), the brilliance of his supper partner's eyes, the favor of her smiles, and the awareness that nearly every young man in the room was green with envy, ensured that by the time he had eaten his last bite of syllabub, Jessamy was practically walking on air. When, upon returning to the drawing rooms, Saphirra confessed to feeling a trifle overheated and told him that she would await him near a somewhat secluded window embrasure while he fetched some refreshing drink, he could scarce believe his good fortune.

"What on earth is that girl about?" whispered Frederica into her husband's ear. They were seated in a group of chairs near the Reverend Trevor, his wife, and Mrs. Leighton and her daughter. As Mrs. Leighton was somewhat loudly occupied in wondering when her brother Simon would ever make up his mind to marry Miss Gilbert, nobody noticed Frederica's furtive observation of Saphirra and Jessamy's actions.

"My love, it is quite obvious what she is about, but I wouldn't be so alarmed," said Lord Alverstoke, who had spent the evening in deep appreciation of Miss Bellingham's efforts to ensnare his brother-in-law. "After all, I don't think that window embrasure is quite enough out of sight for her to manage a compromising situation. Though I should enjoy seeing her try it."

"Are you mad? You think she may consider forcing Jessamy into marriage and you find it amusing?" Frederica was clearly out of patience with her husband's amusement as she watched Jessamy make his way across the room in search of lemonade.

"If she were to succeed in pulling a declaration from him, I'm quite sure she would find a way out of it as soon as she realized he is heir to neither title nor fortune," said Alverstoke calmly.

"You suspect she thinks – but why should she?" asked Frederica, diverted. "He is a younger son and our family is not a particularly wealthy one!"

"No, but mine is, and it might be natural for her to assume that the Merrivilles, being both my cousins and the family from which both I and my heir chose a wife, should be equally wealthy," the marquis pointed out.

"Oh it is too bad of her!" exclaimed Frederica, who then smiled up at his lordship with a twinkle. "Such disappointment as she will face when she realizes she has wasted all her efforts on an aspiring country parson! But I do hope she is disillusioned before Jessamy's feelings become too deeply engaged."

"I should think it very likely," said Alverstoke, who had just noticed that Cassandra Leighton was no longer seated among them and was in fact making her way purposefully to the window where Miss Bellingham was awaiting Jessamy.


	5. Chapter 5

When Jessamy finally had retrieved a glass of lemonade, he made his way back to the window. As he approached, he halted, surprised to see Miss Bellingham and Miss Leighton in what looked to be a heated argument. His natural curiosity to discover the reason for such an exchange caused him to inch slowly closer until he was within hearing distance. Both females remained unware of his presence.

"You poor little girl!" Miss Bellingham was saying, the sickly sweetness in her voice belying the anger in her eyes. "Are you so in want of attention that you must make up lies?"

"I'm not a liar, though I doubt you could tell the difference," said Cassandra, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "My family is much more acquainted with Lord Alverstoke than yours is, so why should you doubt it when I tell you that Jessamy is not heir to a fortune or a dukedom or whatever you seem to think he is?"

"You're lying because you're an envious, spiteful little beast!" replied Saphirra, losing some of her dignity. "You think you're thick as thieves with him and can't bear to see him pay attention to anyone else!"

"Pooh!" uttered Cassandra in a quite childlike manner, now folding her arms across her chest and tossing a stray lock of hair. "I wouldn't mind him liking you at all if I didn't know you to be a heartless, selfish fortune-hunter who would flirt with a madman if you thought he had a diamond necklace to give you!"

"You just can't bear that men like me more than they like you!" Saphirra's face was now quite red and Jessamy, standing quietly by, was privileged to observe that anger did not render Miss Bellingham more beautiful. "It's not my fault if nobody wants to dance with a plain, dull squib of a girl who can only talk of Latin verbs and such boring stuff! Of course Mr. Merriville prefers me! Anyone would!"

"Miss Bellingham, Miss Leighton." Jessamy felt that he had heard enough, and if the girls raised their voices any louder they would soon gain the attention of the entire room.

Both girls froze as they saw him. Miss Bellingham instantly contorted her features into a welcoming smile; Cassandra went pale and took a step back, but held her somewhat aggressive stance as if in defiance of all the world's Saphirra Bellinghams.

"Mr. Merriville," gushed Saphirra, "you have brought me my lemonade! How very kind! Do let us have a comfortable cose together as we cool off by this window. I daresay Miss Leighton's mother is looking for her."

"I beg your pardon, but I'm not at all heated," said Jessamy as he handed her the glass. "Perhaps you had better cool off by yourself. Miss Leighton, I believe the music is striking up again, and I would be honored if you would dance this next with me."

He did not give Cassandra time to reply, but bowed stiffly to the shocked Miss Bellingham, took Miss Leighton by the arm, and purposefully dragged her away to the dance floor.

Cassandra was content to dance in silence, though she had much to say, for two reasons. Firstly, she could see that Jessamy was too angry to be ready to discuss what he had overheard. And secondly, and perhaps more importantly, she must be far too intent on minding her steps to be capable of engaging in conversation.

When the music stopped, she took the hand he held out to her and followed him to a couple of chairs not occupied. She saw with relief that while his jaw was still somewhat set, his features were overall more relaxed and less menacing.

"Jessamy," she started cautiously, "I don't know how much you overheard, but I am indeed very sorry you had to hear such things. I had no notion you were nearby, and I ought to have guarded my tongue more carefully in any case… Mama says I have a dreadful temper sometimes."

He stared at her. "You think that _you_ of all people need to apologize?"

"Well, yes, for it was none of my business to tell Saphirra what I thought of how she was treating you," said Cassandra earnestly. "I know you are not stupid, and would find out for yourself how she is, but it was not my place to interfere. Only when I heard Lord Alverstoke saying she probably thought you were coming into a fortune, it just occurred to me that if I disillusioned her, I could see whether or not her interest in you was real, and of course if it was I would have left it all alone, and I didn't know she would start ripping up at me, although I should have guessed that she would, because she's a spiteful cat, and – oh, dear, there I go again. I'm just rambling now."

"Well, since you were quite right," said Jessamy after a pause, "I cannot judge you for losing your temper. I certainly lost mine, though perhaps not so – er- volubly as you did."

Cassandra giggled. "How well you put things, Jessamy! You cut her in such a way that served her ten times as well as my insults! Then you are not angry with me?"

"Of course not," he said warmly, pressing her hand briefly. "You are the best of good friends, Cass, and have helped me back to my senses. Should you like to borrow my Greek grammar from last term?"

Upon return their return to Alver, Jessamy yawned and excused himself directly to bed. The house was quiet as Lord Alverstoke poked at the fire in his wife's special sitting room that adjoined their bedchamber and watched Frederica throw herself onto a sofa.

"Tired, Frederica?" he enquired.

"Exhausted! So much so I've not the will to brush my hair or unlace my stays, or _anything_ of that nature. I told Harris to take the night off so I daresay I'll end up sleeping in this very gown."

"I'd be more than happy to help you with anything you require," said his lordship courteously as he made his way to the sofa.

"Very well, my lord, you may start taking these pins out of my hair, for one thing."

Several minutes later the marquis was brushing his lady's hair in a most satisfactory manner as she related to him her opinion of the evening's events.

"I'm not sure quite what Cassandra said to Saphirra Bellingham and what Jessamy must have heard," she said, "but he didn't look twice at her again for the rest of the evening! The brat was practically _fuming_, Vernon! And glaring daggers at Cassandra any chance she got! How on earth did Cassandra manage such a thing? In one night Jessamy went from being deep in love to practically slighting the beauty at every turn!"

"I too was struck by Miss Leighton's evident ability to expose the beauty's true heart," said his lordship. "She is indeed a redoubtable girl, on her way to becoming a redoubtable woman. Perhaps she will not be so pretty as her mother, but is like to be worth a dozen of her. I do like a managing woman."

"What a bouncer!" said his wife, laughing. "You may like me well enough, but I can think of at least a dozen managing women whom you detest! Your sister Augusta, for example."

"I should not dare to detest Augusta. I may avoid her presence at all costs, but I hold her powers in the highest respect. As I hold Miss Leighton's. Do you still hold to your original plan of creating a match between her and Felix? I have no objection to her marrying either one of the boys, but I should say after tonight's performance that she seems to be peculiarly well-suited to Jessamy."

"I never said anything about arranging a match between Miss Leighton and anybody," said Frederica primly. "She is far too young to be thinking of such a thing, as are both Jessamy and Felix. Now, you have done very well, but I think you must allow me to do the braiding. How quiet Meg is tonight!"

"Yes, she is, isn't she? How odd. And the housekeeper said she hadn't heard a peep from the nursery all evening."

At that moment there was a rap on the door and they heard Jessamy calling to ask if he might enter. Alverstoke opened the door to let his brother-in-law in.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but it has just occurred to me how quiet Meg is and I'm worried, and thought I ought to tell you…" he said in a rush, a crease between his brows.

"Tell us what, my dear?" asked Frederica in some concern.

"Felix was experimenting to find some way of making Meg sleep better, and –" but here he broke off because both the marquis and his bride were already rushing down the hall towards the nursery, and he hastened to follow them.

The baby was indeed sleeping soundly but there was no sign that anything might be amiss with her. Nurse, who had woken up at the loud entrance of three persons into her domain, said that Baby had fussed a bit upon being laid down, but had gone straight to sleep after chewing for several minutes on her coral beads.

"The beads!" exclaimed Jessamy, grabbing at the string of coral that lay now not a foot from little Lady Margaret's head. "Felix wanted to 'fix' them, he said."

Alverstoke took the beads from Jessamy and fingered them carefully. Seeing nothing unusual, he raised them to his nose and took a good sniff. He paused and grimaced.

"They reek of spirits," he said slowly. "Strong spirits. Pure whisky, I should think."

Jessamy gaped, and Frederica looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Alverstoke walked to the door and yelled as loudly as he could:

"_Felix!"_


End file.
